Fallen Bicycle
by skwirelygurli
Summary: Ally tries to convince herself to fall out of love with Austin. He proves her wrong. Auslly.
1. Chapter 1

**Fallen Bicycle (Part 1/2), an Austin and Ally two-shot/**

**I do not own Austin and Ally. Naada wanted something based off of "Won't Say I'm in Love," so here's my interpretation. Review!**

Overall, she'd like to think that she's good at judgment. It's just, there's those moments where she hasn't made the best of choices.

When she was six, she bit off a large chunk of jalapeno. It was hot, tears running down her cheeks.

Then at age twelve, she had trusted that her friend had checked both ways before crossing the street. The car slammed on the brakes, honking at her. Tears had formed out of pure fear.

This time when she makes the bad judgment, she's not going to cry.

No matter how hard she wants to cry her heart out.

Which is very hard. Like concrete hard.

But this time she refuses to cry. She is not going to waste her tears. She's going to buck up, and smile so wide her eyes shut.

If they shut, the tears can't escape.

There's no reason to hide it. The door is closed, and she's tucked underneath her covers. They form a cocoon over her. And maybe when she comes out, she can be a beautiful butterfly.

Butterflies can't cry, can they?

It is perfectly natural to cry over love. There are too many things that can go wrong. You could fall for someone who loves someone else. That someone else could be dating them. You could fall for someone who doesn't love you back. You could fall for someone who loves you back, but then takes it all away. Or they let you keep the love, with the sole stipulation that its the love of friends. Friends who can't push boundaries for fear of what will happen when you break up, because that's the way the world works.

You fall in love, only to get your heart broken.

Does it always have to be like that?

Can't you fall in love, and stay in love, happily ever after until the world ends, with them right by your side?

Sure you can. That's why she won't cry. She's not going to dwell on the present. One day there'll be Prince Charming, riding in on his steed, in shining armor to whisk her away.

There's one tiny detail that gets under her skin. It shouldn't aggravate her as much as it does. Only on her list of pros and cons (her mental list, because she is not letting him get his hands on it) it's a major pro. Pros are supposed to make her feel better about this situation she's found herself in.

He's single.

There's not a girl holding him back anymore. There's no reason she can't ask him out and have him say 'Why yes, I believe I'm free Thursday afternoon if you'd like to make my acquaintance at the theater.' Except most boys don't speak like that. He'd say something more along the lines of 'Sure, sounds great. How about Thursday?'

Actually, if what she's picturing in her head is anywhere near correct, he'd say 'You're kidding right?'

There are many worse case scenarios. But with him being a nice guy, she doubts he'd tell her he'd rather lick the seat of a hobo's pants than hold her hand. He doesn't have a problem holding her hand. He does it all the time.

What he doesn't do is kiss her on the mouth and tell her that she means all the earth and heaven to him.

She could settle for meaning Miami to him.

She pulls her knees up to her chest. This is all too cliché. Falling in love with your best friend is what she had told herself she wouldn't do. She wouldn't fall for his kind eyes, a perfectly flopping hair. She hadn't even thought about it until he read about Dallas in her book.

Now she can't stop thinking about it.

Why can't they go back to those times? The times where she would bumble over her words with her crush, and he'd just be her best friend who comforted her at her failed attempts. He can't comfort her about being an idiot around him.

If she's being honest, that's already happened. Not her dancing around, or saying things that sound funnier in her head than out. It's the bruise from when she punched him as her 'pal,' or the way she dodged his hug when they were at the beach because she didn't need to feel his bare stomach against her.

When Kira broke up with him, and he came looking for someone to hug (that someone being her, despite the fact that Dez was closer) she did hug him. And even with his shirt on, it was hard. She didn't let go.

Funny, neither did he.

She could brush it off to him being upset about the breakup. Her reason had yet to be written.

Hiding this crush can be so hard.

If her heart would stop doing so many flips, maybe it could think straight. She could get a grip on this situation. Her grip would be so tight she could choke it into nonexistence.

Stop being such a gymnast heart. She gets that you can flip. Now be a responsible body organ and get her blood pumping to her brain instead of her cheeks. Enough embarrassment. She wants to think logically about why she fell for him.

There's a difference between when she realized it and when it happened. From that moment on the blanket where she first realized it, she had backtracked. Waiting in line for the salami she had been slammed with memories of all the little things he had done for her.

Even if she got in line when they opened shop and she stayed until close she wouldn't be able to name them all.

It had happened far before then. She wouldn't say it was the day they met. When they met she was bothered and disgusted and in authoritative Ally mode. But sometime, perhaps the first time their hands touched, she had felt a spark. One that had been written off as her tired body playing tricks on her.

Her body could be playing tricks on her again. The whole blanket thing could be a fluke. Seeing him be the perfect boyfriend for someone else had touched the romantic in her.

It's time for her to grow up and stop believing in sparks. Sparks have to fizzle eventually. She needs to find someone who keeps her heart light. A heavy heart can't stay afloat.

There wasn't a point where she ever denied having the crush. However, she has denied giving the crush life. She won't give it the satisfaction of letting him know, by words or actions.

Nor will she give it the satisfaction of one tear.

There's a voice narking at her in her head. It sounds like Trish, pushing her to give in. Sometimes you have to lose to win. If she loses her fear, if she loses the war of hiding the crush, she can win the reward of his requited love.

Is it possible to hire another voice to combat that one? One who can argue for her, because she's tired of fighting back.

Yet here she lays, wide awake in bed.

The doorbell rings. She uncurls herself and opens her door. Making her way to the entrance, she checks herself out in the mirror. One of the tears has managed to escape.

Fine, he gets one tear. One tear that'll get wiped away with the bottom of her tee shirt before she answers the door.

Unlocking the door, her mouth drops. It's late (well, later than she usually sees him anyhow), and there he is, standing on her stoop. He tugs her out with him.

His lips find hers. It's dark out, with the faint glow of the house light, but he does it with such ease. There's no 'Hi Ally,' or 'Can we talk?' or 'Would you come out for a moment?' It's tug and connect, like two magnets being attracted to each other.

There's no steed and shining armor prince to whisk her away. It's Austin, in his silver jacket, bicycle fallen over in the lawn.

Somehow that's better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fallen Bicycle (2/2), an Austin and Ally two shot**

**I do not own Austin and Ally. Polkadotty asked for glitter glue, so here it is. Review and request!**

He tastes like pickles.

Glad to know he cared enough to brush his teeth before coming over.

"I am so sorry," he says, pulling away from her. His hands leave her sides.

Now would be the time to say something coy, like 'Let me make you sorry again,' or 'I'm sorry you didn't do it sooner.'

Instead, she gets a single word out. "Why?"

Why did he kiss her? Why did he apologize for it? Why is he looking at her like he just lost the best friend he ever had?

He studies his feet. She notices his sneakers match his jacket. He's dressed in silver, but she'd hardly call it armor. Knights are brave and valiant.

They're not scuffing their shoes to the stoop because they're too afraid to speak.

"Because I just ruined everything." His eyes focus on her, not breaking away as the neighbor's dog howls at the moon.

"Maybe you should come inside."

This time she's doing the tugging. The door gets shut behind him, making a loud noise. She hadn't meant to slam it.

He jumps. He's in panic mode as it is, and everybody who has ever watched a movie knows that when the door slams, the worst is yet to come. He's already made the mistake of kissing her. Is it too much to ask for a do over? Why had fate not given him a flat tire?

He would've run.

"I can explain."

"Okay." She leads him to the couch and lets go of his wrist. He waits for her to sit first. This way he can sit far at the other end of the couch, where his hormones will not get the better of him.

She seems a bit offended by the space. Normally he's pressed against her, no matter how much room there is, and now, after they kiss, he's farther than he's ever been.

"I was going through some old papers in my room when I came across this." He sits up to take a paper out of his back pocket. He unfolds it, stretching across the couch to hand it to her. He snaps back.

It's a Valentine's heart, put together with glitter glue and markers. She holds it up to the light. It shines. The words 'be mine' are big and red.

That's not what catches her eye. It's the fact that her name is written in black marker at the top, and that his is at the bottom, following the word love.

"Wow," she remarks. This was not the box of candy hearts he had given her. They had the same words, but Trish and Dez had gotten a box too. She's pretty sure neither of them got anything like this.

"Yeah." He lets her absorb the information. "My hand would not stop shaking. I got glitter glue all over the place."

She imagines him running his hand down his face in frustration, smearing the glitter across his cheek. As if his eyes didn't sparkle enough on their own.

Moving over an inch, she holds it out to him. He shakes his head. He made it for her, and she's going to get it.

Four months too late, or not, she's getting her valentine.

"So what happened after you found it?" She sets the card on the seat next to her.

"I was going to get rid of it. But then I got hungry, and when I saw the pickles in the fridge, I thought of you again." He eyes her nervously as she moves another inch closer.

"That explains why you tasted like pickles." A look of dread crosses his face. Great, their first kiss and he tasted like pickles. This is the last time he ever acts on an impulse.

She presses her lips together to show she isn't going to interrupt again. "I went to bed early, but couldn't fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was you and that stupid valentine."

She should interrupt and tell him that it's not stupid. It's sweet, right down to the glitter glue stains.

But she's made a silent promise, and she's not going to break it.

Especially when she knows she can't keep the one about getting over her crush.

"I'm not really sure how I ended up here. I didn't even tell my parents I was leaving." She moves another inch. There's only one more inch to go.

"Maybe you should call them." Her hand finds a place to rest on his lap.

"I forgot my phone."

She stands up. He breathes a sigh of relief. One more inch, and he doesn't know what he would have done.

Walking into the kitchen, she picks up the land line. He dials the number.

"Hello?" his mother asks.

"Mom, I'm at Ally's." He cringes in anticipation for what she's going to say next.

The panic erases from his face as he feels Ally's fingers curl around his own. Then the phone is out of his hand. "I promise everything is fine Mrs. Moon."

She smiles at him. When she says everything, she means it.

His heart settles.

"What is he doing over there?" she hears Mr. Moon ask.

"He had to give me my valentine."

"But Valentine's Day was months ago."

One second. Two seconds. Three- "Did you say valentine?"

Thank you Mr. Moon.

She hands the phone to Austin. He gives them a few answers (yes, no, I don't know, okay) and hangs up the phone.

He takes the receiver back from him.

"What'd they say?" She sets the phone next to the valentine. She can put it back later.

Resuming her spot on the couch, her hand gets set back on his leg. He blushes.

"Oh y'know. Parent stuff."

"Austin?"

"Hmm?" She moves that final inch.

If he would have had the foresight to glitter glue his mouth shut, he wouldn't be in this situation. He wouldn't be staring at her like she's the world to him, heart beating until it threatens to fall out of his chest. He's given her one heart tonight. Does he really want to give her another?

"Thank you for the valentine." She turns away.

Why did she have to chicken out? She's waited for the moment for so long. And now that it's here, on a silver platter (or a plaid couch, if you choose not to enjoy the fantasy with her) she doesn't go for it.

Looks like he'll have to make the first move again.

He grabs her chin and kisses her.

She can have another heart.

She is so worth it.


End file.
